


A Man Out of Time

by PerfectlyImperfect42



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, M/M, Post-Avengers (2012), Time Travel, mentions of period-typical homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 04:01:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfectlyImperfect42/pseuds/PerfectlyImperfect42
Summary: During a mission gone wrong, Bucky Barnes fell from a train in the Alps. He landed somewhere he never expected.





	A Man Out of Time

**Author's Note:**

> My first Stucky fic! Major thanks to the **AMAZING** [NurseDarry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/pseuds/NurseDarry) for being my beta as well as [cleo4u2](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cleo4u2/pseuds/cleo4u2) and [mocking-point](https://mocking-point.tumblr.com/) for allowing me to pester them with questions.
> 
> Next fic is a Steve/Bucky/Daisy triad, but a sequel for [Soulmates and Silver Linings](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10685289/chapters/23661321) is in the works too.
> 
>  **EDIT:** Now with art by the **INCREDIBLE** [cobaltmoony](http://cobaltmoony.tumblr.com)!

They say that right before you die, your entire life flashes in front of your eyes. It was fitting, then, that the last face Bucky was going to see was Steve’s. Ever since that fateful day on the schoolyard when a young Bucky made the decision to step into a fight and pull a bully off a scrawny little blond kid, Bucky Barnes' purpose in life had been to protect Steve Rogers.

They were inseparable, spending every minute that they could in the other’s company. Winifred Barnes welcomed Steve into her home with open arms, and Sarah Rogers was certainly relieved to know her precious son would be well taken care of when her job at the hospital forced her to work late. Bucky didn’t care that Steve was sick more often than not, or that he couldn’t always play the way that other boys their age did. Steve was one of the bravest, truest people Bucky had ever met, and Bucky was proud to call the other boy his friend.

As time went by, their relationship only grew, a confused Bucky coming to realize that he loved Steve as more than just a friend. Despite constant reminders that such thoughts were wrong, even a damnable sin, Bucky eventually worked up the courage in his teens to confess his feelings, heart in his throat and filled with fear that this would spell the end for them. To his eternal relief, Steve smiled shyly, a blush coloring his cheeks before he leaned forward and clumsily kissed Bucky on the lips.

Bucky did everything he could to hide their love from anyone who might judge them for it, determined more than ever to protect Steve from harm. Steve never batted an eye at the parade of girls Bucky had on his arm just for show, the act fooling everyone but the person who knew where Bucky’s heart truly lay. It certainly helped that Bucky took every available chance to reassure him.

Neither of them could have predicted the country being dragged into the war the way it was, and before they knew it, Bucky had been drafted. Unable to escape his duty, and with growing sadness, Bucky watched Steve’s increasingly desperate attempts to follow. Bucky knew his lover meant well, but the fear of Steve succeeding drove him to discourage the efforts as best he could.

It was with a heavy heart that Bucky left for Europe, keeping the memory of Steve and the determination to return to him close through the hell of war, and even closer through his torture in Austria. In truth, the thought of never being able to see his love again hurt as much as anything Zola did to him.

Then Steve had rescued him, his little Stevie, now with a body that matched his fighting spirit. Bucky had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. They may have argued later, once Bucky learned of the risks Steve had taken, but nothing could overshadow Bucky’s love. That long held desire to stick with Steve and keep him safe was still there, but Bucky wasn’t too stubborn to recognize his lover now needed someone who could trust in his new abilities and follow orders more than he needed a protector. Taking to the new role without hesitation, Bucky happily followed his captain back into the fray. Even if Steve didn’t really need a protector anymore, Bucky could still use the new position to at least keep an eye on his fella's six.

So of course Bucky's first reaction when Steve got knocked down by the Hydra goon's blast was to scoop up his best guy's shield and attack. Bucky barely got three shots off before another energy blast slammed into the shield, the force of it propelling him through the gaping hole in the side of the car. He hit the warped metal hard, pushing aside the pain to desperately grab one of the rails as he sailed past, and held on for dear life. The wind howled in his ears, buffeting him as the train sped along the track and making the task infinitely more difficult.

"Bucky!"

He looked up when he heard Steve scream his name in panic, watched the other man carefully shuffle towards him along a railing and the ridges of metal. Bucky had to tamp down hysterical laughter at Steve's command for him to hold on, like he wasn't already clinging with all he had as his legs dangled over the deadly drop below. The railing jerked as a bolt came free, the sudden motion causing one hand to lose its tenuous grip. Bucky flailed for an instant but quickly regained his hold.

"Grab my hand!" Steve called, fear in his voice as he strained to reach across the gap while Bucky tried to inch closer.

Another support broke away and Steve shouted in denial as they both realized what was about to happen. Bucky made one last fruitless attempt to reach him and then it was over. The railing gave and Bucky fell, his own screams echoing around him as he watched Steve’s anguished face grow farther away. He had a brief second to regret being the reason for such grief before darkness enveloped him.

His eyes snapped open to find himself face down on pavement, pulling in a gasp of air while his entire body burned with slowly fading agony. Bucky flopped onto his back, the new position allowing him to better take in the deep breaths his lungs were demanding. Wild eyes searched his surroundings, a sense of panic rising when he found himself in an alley instead of the Alps.

Struggling to sit up, Bucky tried to get a better view of what was around him, the plain brick of the alley walls giving away nothing. Strange sounds like machinery floated over from the street, and Bucky wondered where the hell he had ended up. Had he died? Was this some strange sort of afterlife? Maybe everything since Austria had been in his head, and he was a drooling vegetable, still strapped to a metal table back in Zola's lab. A shudder ran through him at the very idea.

Bucky dragged himself to his feet, stumbling towards the mouth of the alley. He almost tripped when his foot caught on a large rock, though on closer inspection it resembled building rubble more than stone. There had certainly been enough of it in Europe for him to learn to tell the difference. More was visible the closer he got to the street, the area reminding him too much of a battlefield.

Sunlight poured in and managed to briefly blind him, but when he raised his hand to shield his eyes he got a proper view. Bucky was in some sort of city, the buildings looking familiar yet different. He was startled to realize all of the writing was in English, from the signs in store windows to the advertisements plastered everywhere. Along with the rubble, the wrecks of cars littered the street, though they were unlike any cars Bucky had ever seen. The noises he’d heard were coming from construction machines, again something familiar but not at the same time. Workers in brightly colored vests and helmets were using them to clear the debris, and Bucky sure as hell had never seen clothing the shade of those vests before.

As he watched with wonder and confusion, it slowly began to register that the weather here was much too hot for his thick wool coat. Sweat had already started to trickle down his neck in an effort to cool him. Bucky shucked off the heavy garment, tying it around his waist by the sleeves without ever taking his eyes off the men in front of him.

Unsure of what else to do, he chose to cautiously venture out from the safety of the alley and explore. No one paid much mind to him as Bucky weaved his way along the edges of the activity, the few who did simply gave him curious looks before returning to their jobs. With each building he passed, Bucky couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he knew this place. If this was really some weird kind of afterlife, that would make sense, right?

What he didn't recognize, however, were the unusual hunks of machinery scattered through the rubble. They looked like something straight out of those science fiction stories he used to love to read, a strange sort of futuristic chariot. Curiosity got the better of him, and after a quick check to make sure nobody was watching, Bucky crept towards one that lay tipped on its side to get a better view. He immediately regretted it. Hanging halfway out of the vehicle was the former driver. One of the ugliest creatures Bucky'd ever had the misfortune of encountering, the thing was _shaped_ like a person, but that seemed to be where the similarities ended. Some kind of armor covered the body, its exposed, skeletal face the stuff nightmares were made of. Bucky gave it a nudge with his boot, just to make sure it was dead. Once satisfied it wasn't getting up anytime soon, he moved on.

Bucky wandered another block or two before he came to an intersection, stopping dead when he saw the name of the street. _7_ _th_ _Street_. Heart in his throat, Bucky stepped forward, glancing first to the left, then the right. Even with the changes, the sight was unmistakable.

"Times Square," he whispered in disbelief. "I'm in Manhattan."

Like everything else he'd seen so far, the location was familiar, but so much was different. All of the buildings were much taller, and every available spot was crammed with brightly colored billboards, some of which _moved_. Bucky stared at the images, just like something you would see on a movie screen, but this was in bright daylight and there wasn't a projector to be seen. His amazement was cut short when he noticed one seemed to be playing some kind of news, films of the battle those monsters must have been from, thousands of them pouring through a hole in the sky and raining down destruction. What caught his attention the most was a familiar blonde figure, decked out in red, white, and blue.

_Stevie?_

Bucky watched, dumbstruck, as a guy who looked too much like his “Punk” to be coincidence ran around with a bunch of other men including a green giant, a man made out of metal, and a big fella with a cape and a hammer. But if Steve was here, did that mean he was dead too? The thought caused a horrible pain in his chest, Bucky suddenly preferring the idea that everything since Austria had been in his head. Maybe he could handle being dead, but Steve was supposed to live. His best guy was supposed to make it home and live a full life now that he was healthy enough to do it. To think that he hadn't...

But he could deal with that later. Shaking his head to clear his mind, Bucky studied the screen intently, looking for anything that might give him a clue as to where Steve was now. Below, a news ticker scrolled away, announcing another day of protests and counter-protests at Stark Tower.

 _Stark_.

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. He'd bet anything that it belonged to Howard, and if anybody here would know where to find Steve, it would be him. Now he just need to figure out where the hell the tower was.

Glancing around, he spotted a worker shovelling debris. Bucky wandered over, doing his best to act casual.

"Hey buddy, you know how to get to Stark Tower from here?"

The man looked up, expression full of disbelief. "You're kidding, right? What'd you wanna go over there for?"

Bucky motioned at the news ticker with his thumb. "I'm heading to the protest." The excuse was as good as any.

After studying Bucky for a moment, the man shrugged. "Head south to West 44th, take a left, then straight till you reach Park Ave. Can't miss it."

Thanking the man, Bucky went on his way. He followed the instructions, spotting the big building looming in the distance as soon as he reached West 44th. It was large and flashy, just what Bucky would expect from something Howard built. He could also tell from the damage that it'd taken more than a few hits during the battle. Bucky was starting to doubt the theory that he had landed in some sort of afterlife. He was certain there wouldn't be fighting like this in Heaven, and that's where he had to be if Steve was here. No way was God sending anybody with a heart that good to Hell.

Bucky saw the gathered crowd by the time he was halfway down the final block. People shouted and waved signs in front of barricades the police had put up to keep them back from the entrance. His anger at those who appeared to be blaming the whole thing on Steve and his friends was tempered slightly by those who were holding signs of support, but between the two groups, there was no way he was getting in through that front door. Bucky had no doubt if he tried to approach one of the officers and explain how his friend might be inside, the guy would laugh and turn him away. He was going to have to come up with another way to get inside.

Skirting the edge of the crowd, Bucky decided to do some reconnaissance, casually walking in a wide circle around the building to see it from all sides. A second guarded entrance faced East 45th, complete with another mass of people surrounding it. Depew Place was next, a small street that must have once had a real purpose, but now only served as an alley for the loading docks of the adjacent building with no access to his target. Bucky knew the only entrances left down here might be through Grand Central, but he doubted even his ability to slip through there unseen with all the activity going on inside. That ruled out every entrance on this level, meaning he would need to find some way to get up to Park Ave above. Bucky remembered seeing a parking garage left gated but unguarded that would suit his purposes just fine if he could only manage to get to it.

Far as Bucky could tell, there was only one viable path to get there: the viaduct through the Helmsley building that was meant to bring cars to the same place. Luckily all the destruction meant traffic was no longer a problem, so at least he didn’t have to worry about getting _run over_ while trying. Bucky could even wait till night and use the darkness to his advantage. Deciding that plan was as good as it was going to get, Bucky wandered over to the viaduct entrance, keeping a lookout for anyone who might notice him, and hunkered down to wait.

Bucky ran over everything in his head while he waited. The entire plan would hinge on him making it to the garage unseen and getting that gate open. A corner of his mouth quirked up at the thought.

Ever since Austria, Bucky had started to notice that he was... different. First it was the realization that his senses were sharper; he could see farther, hear better, even smell more. The last one hadn't exactly been a blessing, considering the fact that showers were few and far between for their merry little group. Then there was his strength. Suddenly things that had seemed heavy, like their packs, weren't a chore to carry anymore. Everything was just, well, lighter. Bucky knew it must have something to do with Zola using him as a lab rat while he was a prisoner, and that thought was more than a bit frightening.

As with all of his secrets, the first person he went to was Steve. Not just as his lover but more importantly as his captain; this wasn’t something Bucky could hide from him. Despite knowing how Steve had gotten his new form and abilities, Bucky feared what the other man’s reaction would be. They may have both been similarly changed, but the people responsible for the things Bucky could do hadn't exactly had freedom and justice in mind. He needn't have worried, though. Steve, being Steve, was more concerned about Bucky's wellbeing.

The mother hen act from Steve that Bucky had been forced to endure since being pulled from that metal table got worse, the irony of the reversal not lost on him.  Bucky eventually put his foot down and promised to tell Steve if something was wrong. His lover was still very protective, taking great care to make sure that the higher ups never learned about what Zola had done. Steve explained that he chose this change and all the poking and prodding that came with it, but Bucky wasn't given that choice. Steve would be damned before he let Bucky suffer for it.

Through sheer bad luck, the rest of the Howling Commandos eventually ended up discovering Bucky's secret. The team had split up for a raid, Dernier, Morita, and Falsworth following Steve while Bucky joined Dugan and Jones. Gabe and Dum Dum somehow managed to acquire another one of those monster Hydra tanks, but in the ensuing firefight the damn thing's hatch somehow got jammed shut. Once the enemy goons were dealt with, Bucky rushed over to try and help. He could hear Dum Dum swearing up a storm from inside as he fruitlessly banged against the stubborn door. Fixing his hands firmly on the handle, Bucky gave it a tug. Still adjusting to his new strength as he was, Bucky ended up pulling a bit harder than he intended, tearing the whole hatch door free of its hinges.

Bucky stared at the thing, silently astounded, and then dared to glance down at the tank's occupants. Dum Dum and Gabe were gazing up at him, mouths hanging open in matching expressions of surprise. Dugan was the first to come back to his senses, blinking slowly before directing an incredulous look at Bucky.

"Easy there, Champ."

Gabe picked that second to burst into laughter, leading Dum Dum to join in, leaving Bucky utterly bewildered by their untroubled reaction to his new skill. Dugan decided to take pity on him and explained the joke the moment he could drag in enough air.

"Come on, Sarge. It's not exactly the strangest thing we've seen," Dum Dum chuckled. After a few minutes, the laughter died and his face sobered. Dugan looked Bucky right in the eyes and asked, "that beady-eyed little bastard in Austria?"

Bucky nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

For a moment, the older man’s expression turned sad, something like pity flickering in his gaze before his jaw tightened with resolve and he held up a hand for Bucky to pull him out of the tank. Bucky obliged, this time intent on controlling his strength as he helped Dum Dum climb through the ruined hatch. As soon as Dugan was free, he clapped Bucky on the back in thanks, the hand lingering on his shoulder a bit longer than necessary. Bucky gratefully accepted the silent show of support, flashing his fellow soldier a weak smile then turning to help Gabe. Jones repeated the gesture, further lightening a load that had been weighing Bucky down since he discovered he had changed.

In truth, their reactions gave Bucky the courage to tell Falsworth, Morita, and Dernier as well. The first two shared Gabe and Dum Dum’s easy acceptance, while Jacques narrowed his eyes and spouted off a wary question in French that left Jones cackling. At the rest of the groups expectant looks, Gabe grinned and translated Dernier’s inquiry as to whether this meant Bucky planned to parade around in tights like the Captain now. This then lead to a heated debate of what Bucky’s uniform should be, the men arguing as Bucky shot Steve a relieved smile.

Thankfully, they never did manage to agree on anything, even with Steve’s helpfully sketched suggestions because his lover never missed an opportunity to be a little shit.

Time flew past as Bucky dwelled on the fond memories, the fading light from the setting sun finally pulling him from his thoughts. The few lights that were still in operation had flickered on, collectively dim enough not to pose an added problem to his plan. Bucky crept along the viaduct, crouched low behind the cement railings to remain hidden from anyone who might happen to pass by on the street below, and stayed close to the wall to go unseen by those inside.

Bucky paused at the site of a large glass wall and two revolving doors, relaxing when closer examination revealed the police had simply put a barricade in front of each, most likely after building security had locked down the doors. Nobody was getting in that way, so why waste men at a time like this guarding it? He listened hard for anyone just in case, before darting past to the next section of wall.

From his new vantage point he could easily make out the garage entrance, still secured by its gate. A slight motion out of the corner of his eye drew his attention to a shattered bubble of tinted glass at the end of a white metal arm. It dangled from the side of the building on a wire and swayed lightly with the breeze. It reminded him too much of the cameras Hydra used to watch their facilities to be anything else. Luckily the thing looked damaged, but was it damaged enough to be out of commission? Bucky examined it as much as he could from his current position, in the end deciding that he would just have to take a chance. After pausing again to listen for sounds of approaching feet or nearby voices, Bucky made his move. He crouched next to the gate, threaded his fingers through the links, took a deep breath and _pulled_.

The gate slowly lifted, the movement accompanied by the sound of gears grinding in protest at the unwanted motion. Bucky expected someone to come running the way the racket was echoing in his ears, but maybe that was just because of his enhanced hearing. An eternity later, the bottom of the gate was just high enough for Bucky to roll under. He did so swiftly, eyes darting around in search of a door as soon as he reached his feet again.

Past the gate was a ramp that led up to three options: a glass door he assumed led right into Stark Tower, what he's pretty certain was an elevator, and a door marked "Stairs". Bucky went through each of the choices in his head. The elevator was out, both because Bucky wasn't too crazy about the idea of being trapped in a metal box, and since it would leave him unable to really know what was on the other side of the elevator doors until it was too late to do anything. That left the regular door and the stairs. Every fancy building he'd ever heard of always had the important people on top, and Stark sure as hell wouldn't settle for anything less than the highest point where he could look down on everybody else. So Bucky wanted to get as high up as he could before he got caught. The best option for that goal was to take the stairs, so he did. Opening the door to the stairwell, Bucky looked up. And up. _And_ up.

"You better be here, Stevie," he grumbled at the sight, taking his first steps.

Bucky climbed and climbed, mentally cursing Howard for feeling the need to build something so damn tall. By the time he reached the fortieth floor, the thought of being confined in metal, hanging from a wire didn't sound so bad anymore. At the landing of the eighty-fifth floor, Bucky decided he'd gone high enough and might as well try a door. He reached out for the handle, not terribly surprised but still disappointed when he found it locked. Bucky was in the middle of debating if he should try another floor or just force the door open, when a sudden voice startled him out of his thoughts.

“Access to the tower is currently restricted to authorised personnel only,” the voice of a prim, British man informed him. “Leave now or I will be forced to notify the proper authorities.”

Bucky turned, searching for the source of the voice but no one was there. Closer inspection of a nearby wall, however, revealed an inset speaker and what looked like a camera that he’d been too preoccupied to notice. Bucky silently cursed his own carelessness.

“Listen, I don’t want any trouble,” Bucky tried as he faced the camera, “I’m just looking for a friend, and this was the only way I could find to get in. I need to talk to Howard. He’ll be able to help me and get this whole thing sorted out.”

The voice was silent for a moment before asking “By ‘Howard’, are you referring to Howard Stark?”

Something about the way the question was asked put Bucky on edge. “Yeah... He owns the place, right?”

There was another long pause, and Bucky was really starting to worry when he heard a soft ‘click’ come from the door in front of him.

“Please proceed down the hall to the elevator,” the voice instructed. “Mr. Stark will be waiting for you on the ninety-second floor.”

Unease still lingering, Bucky nodded in acknowledgement and did as he was told. The ride up to the designated floor was full of tension, Bucky barely having time to marvel at the smoothness of the elevator’s movement, too busy wondering for the thousandth time since he woke up in the alley after his fall what the hell he’d landed in the middle of. What greeted him as soon as the doors opened wasn’t much better. His heartbeat picked up in his chest, and Bucky focused more on the two glowing metal palms than the person they belonged to, because if dealing with Hydra had taught him anything, it was things that glowed usually meant bad news. He immediately raised his hands in surrender, not at all interested in finding out what the things did.

“Honestly, I’m only here to talk to Howard,” Bucky stated, never taking his eyes off of that glow.

“Gonna be a bit tough since dear old dad’s been dead for more than a few years,” a deep, sarcastic voice responded. “But hey, I’m always up for a séance.”

That sure caught his attention. _Dad? Dead?_ Bucky didn’t even bother trying to mask his confusion, eyes widening in shock. “What?”

The person addressing him lowered his hands slightly, giving Bucky a better view of a man who did bear a startling resemblance to Howard. The goatee was kind of different, as was the unusually patterned glow in the centre of his chest, but everything else... He had the same hair, the same face, even the same damn moustache.

“Speaking of dead guys,” the man barrelled on, “you’re practically a clone of the late and great Bucky Barnes.” He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “What’s your secret? Plastic surgery? That must have cost a _fortune_.”

Anger started to mix with his confusion and Bucky lowered his hands, clenching them into fists. “Listen, pal, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but I ain’t some kind of phoney. I’m Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, United States Army, serial number three-two-five-five-seven-zero-three-eight.”

Stark’s kid raised an eyebrow. “You look pretty good for a guy who died almost seventy years ago.”

Once again, the response threw Bucky for a loop, but this was so much worse than anything he had encountered so far. Seventy years in the future? That would mean... God, his Ma must be long dead by now, and what about his sisters? Were they able to get by without him? Were they even still alive? What about the rest of the Howlies? Did they make it back from the war? The war! Had the Allies won? Bucky remembered passing American flags on the way here, so the Germans never reached American soil. Was Europe free as well? And if all of this was true, then how the hell had he seen Stevie here?

The thoughts spun faster and faster in his head, grey spreading across the edges of his vision as ringing filled his ears. Bucky barely registered the brief feeling of weightlessness as his knees refused to hold him up any longer, or the shout and swearing that drifted to him from what sounded like far away. Strong hands grabbed him under his arms and he was moving again, his body being forced into a chair. Bucky came back to his senses at the feeling of someone harshly tapping his cheek. Blinking slowly, the world came back into focus around the face of the guy who claimed to be Stark’s son.

“You back with us?” the guy questioned, expression tense and those weird metal gloves gone. Bucky nodded weakly in response and the man relaxed. “Good. You are absolutely _not_ allowed to do that again. Right Bruce?”

For the first time, Bucky noticed there was a third person in the room. Over the shoulder of the man in front of him, Bucky could see another, shaggy hair streaked with grey, brown eyes framed by wire-rim glasses. He, Bruce, studied Bucky curiously.

"You really believe you're James Barnes, don't you?" Bruce asked. "I mean, it wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen this week, but it would certainly be up there." Bruce addressed the man in front of Bucky. "What do you think, Tony? Tesseract related? A trap left behind by Loki? I wouldn't put it past a guy who masquerades as the Norse trickster god to do something like this just to mess with us more."

Bucky didn't know who Loki was, but the Tesseract he was very familiar with. All kinds of alarm bells went off in his head and he watched the room's other occupants warily, especially when they both turned to scrutinize him. Bucky sat up straighter in his seat.

"We could always do a DNA test," Tony suggested. "Barnes must have left some behind somewhere. Or even a family match would work. Didn't he have three other siblings? JARVIS?"

"Yes, Sir," that prim British gentleman answered. "Currently searching all known genetic databases."

Bucky looked around, still not seeing the man. "Do you keep that guy hidden somewhere, or what?"

"Him? That's my AI JARVIS. Stands for "Just A Rather Very Intelligent System". Runs through the whole building and just about everywhere else I need him to," Tony explained with a dismissive wave.

Bucky stared at him. "AI?"

Tony eyed him skeptically. "Artificial Intelligence?" Bucky blinked, the term going over his head. "Intelligent machines?" Tony tried again.

"You're kidding me, right?" Bucky inquired, trying to keep his face straight at the absurdity of the idea. That was all science fiction, wasn't it? At Tony's humorless expression, Bucky disbelievingly added "That's a real thing now?"

"See that, right there?" Tony directed at Bruce. "That kind of makes me believe he's the real deal just a bit. Rogers has the same exact reaction to modern technology." Tony glanced back at him. "And I guess if you _were_ actually Bucky Barnes, Rogers is the 'Stevie' JARVIS said you were mumbling about, right?"

Bucky pushed aside the spark of anger at hearing someone else use his private name for his lover in favor of actually finding said man. "You know where he is?"

"I do, in fact," Tony acknowledged, "and maybe I'll even call him and tell him to get his patriotic ass back here if we confirm you are who you say you are."

Bucky nodded, excited that his goal might finally be within reach. "What do I need to do?"

"Well, it's not you so much as..." Tony started, before he was cut off.

"Sir, I've found a match," JARVIS announced. "A Rebecca Barnes Proctor donated a genetic sample to a project for identifying the remains of missing soldiers. An accompanying interview states that she hopes it will one day be used to put her brother Sergeant Barnes to rest."

The words hit Bucky like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs. Becca, his baby sister, who always used to follow him and Steve around, begging for piggyback rides from him or drawings from Steve. Bucky had missed so much of her life, missed her getting married, but she still did her best to make sure that if he was ever found, he'd be taken care of.  He didn't even realize he was crying until he felt the tear slip down his cheek. Bucky wiped it away with the edge of his sleeve and hoped neither of the other men noticed.

"Great!" Tony exclaimed. "We can test it against what we get from you and we'll have our answer. I think one of the labs downstairs in R&D even has what we'll need to do it."

Bucky barely managed to hide his flinch at the mention of a lab, memories of Austria stirring in his mind.

Bruce didn't look convinced. "You realize those tests can take up to seventy-two hours to run, right?"

Tony grinned. "Oh, ye of little faith. What kind of operation do you think I'm running here? It may take that long for other places to do it, but JARVIS can do it in under an hour. Isn't that right, JARVIS?" Tony asked the ceiling.

"That's correct, Sir," came JARVIS's response. "You will find all the necessary equipment in medical lab two."

"What are we waiting for, then?" Tony turned his gaze on Bucky. "You ready to prove you're Bucky Barnes?"

For a moment, the very thought of willingly walking into anything even resembling a medical facility made Bucky want to run for the door. He'd never been fond of the doctor's office to begin with, but it had gotten so much worse after Austria and Zola. Bucky had lost count of the number of times Steve had to use his rank to get Bucky out of a visit to the med tent, knowing the panic that would engulf his friend at the mere sight of their tools. Steve had been there for the nightmares as well. But Steve was the reason why he was going to do it, wasn't he? One test and they would see he was telling the truth. One test and Steve would be on his way back. Wasn't that worth any pain?

"I'll do it," Bucky agreed, standing from his chair and looking to Tony for directions.

Tony started moving, heading towards the elevator, and called back over his shoulder "Then follow me."

Bucky didn't wait to be told twice, falling into step behind Stark's son with Bruce following behind. Their trip wasn't long. A short elevator ride later they were there, and Bucky was steeling himself for what was about to happen. They were almost at the lab door when Bucky realized he had no idea what they even needed from him for this test. Would they have to draw blood? Or would Tony need to take more? A flash of beady eyes behind round glasses made Bucky shiver.

Tony pushed the door open, revealing the inside of the room. To say Bucky was surprised would be an understatement. The lab certainly wasn't what he was expecting.

The room was filled with long tables with shelves down their middle, just about every possible inch of space covered in beakers, petri dishes, and brightly colored containers. White lab coats hung haphazardly from the backs of wheeled chairs. Large, block shaped machines and microscopes were scattered through what spaces remained. The place looked cluttered and almost chaotic. Bucky felt himself relaxing in the face of how _unthreatening_ it seemed.

Stark waltzed right in, most likely expecting them to just follow along, and began digging around in search of something. Bucky stepped further inside, examining whatever he could see but not daring to touch anything. He had no idea what half this stuff was even for.

"Aha!" Tony yelled, raising his prize over his head in triumph. He spun around and pointed at Bucky. "You!" Tony indicated a nearby chair. "Sit!"

Bucky wordlessly dropped into the chair, never taking his eyes off the things in Stark's hand. It looked like a clear tube partially filled with liquid and something wrapped in paper. There wasn't a single needle in sight.

Tony set the tube down on one of the tables and ripped open the paper wrapping on the second item. Inside was what Bucky was pretty sure was a plain old cotton swab. Bucky stared at it in confusion, trying to figure out what Tony planned to do with it that was going to prove who Bucky was. He didn't have to wait long.

"Open up," Tony ordered, coming closer and aiming the thing for Bucky's mouth.

Feeling some of his previous nervousness starting to creep back in, Bucky cautiously opened his mouth and held very still. Tony reached in and scraped the swab against the inside of Bucky's cheek, moving it around in slow circles. At the distinct lack of pain, Bucky allowed himself to relax again. This went on for another minute, then Tony carefully removed the swab and collected the tube from the table. Bucky watched curiously as Tony pressed something on the stick of the swab and the tip of it fell into the tube. Closing it firmly, Tony tossed the stick in the trash and then looked at Bucky.

"All done."

Bucky blinked at the man. He seemed to be doing that a lot. "That's it?"

"Yep," Tony said, popping the 'p' at the end. "Now I just need to mix a few things, drop this in the machine, and JARVIS will do the rest." As he spoke, Tony was already moving to do exactly that, Bruce joining him to watch.

The whole thing was almost beyond belief. A quick and painless test was going to tell everyone that he was the real Bucky Barnes and bring Steve back to him. Maybe the future wasn't so bad. Then again...

Bucky cleared his throat, guessing he was about to bring up a sensitive subject. "You said... You said that Howard was dead. Mind if I ask how?"

Tony paused with his back to Bucky, shoulders stiffening. "Car accident, mom too," Tony said by way of explanation and continued on with his work.

A wave of sadness rolled over Bucky at the news. The great Howard Stark killed by something so mundane. It was practically a tragedy in itself.

"You've probably heard it a lot, but I'm sorry for your loss."

Tony gave a noncommittal hum, not even bothering to stop.

"It's strange. Knowing him, I would have expected it to have more to do with one of his crazy experiments," Bucky commented solemnly. "He was always tinkering with something, never could stay still."

“Sounds familiar,” Bruce noted with a hint of a smile.

"Yeah, well, we still don't know this guy is the real Barnes, so I'm taking anything he says for now with a grain of salt," Tony shot back. "Speaking of..." Tony turned to one of the nearby machines, placed the tube inside and closed it. Little lights immediately began to flicker and Tony clapped his hands together. "And now we wait. You got this, JARVIS?"

"Of course, Sir," JARVIS replied. "I'll inform you of the results as soon as the analysis is complete."

"Perfect! Now," Tony spun towards Bucky, "what do we do with you until then?"

As if in answer, Bucky's stomach chose that moment to loudly protest that fact he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Another little gift from his time with Zola, Bucky found he needed to consume almost as much as Steve did now to keep his strength up. With that in mind, he was surprised he hadn’t notice his hunger earlier, though his near fainting spell should have been a clue. Bucky still felt the need to mumble an apology for his body's outburst.

Tony shrugged it off. "I'm sure we have more than enough food."

"Both the kitchen on the common floor and in your penthouse are fully stocked, sir," JARVIS helpfully interrupted.

"See, plenty of food," Tony assured, then checked his watch. "Not a bad time for a late-night snack either."

Tony headed back to the elevator, Bruce in tow, not even waiting to see if Bucky was behind them.

Bucky glanced between the two men. "Listen, I know you fellas seem comfortable enough with having some random stranger in your home, but shouldn't I have guards following me around until the test is done in case I'm dangerous or something?" After seeing the remnants of the recent battle in the streets, it bothered Bucky that they were being so carefree about his presence minus Tony's initial display.

Tony chuckled. "Trust me, we'll be just fine if you suddenly decide you want a fight."

Bucky skeptically studied them both again. "Whatever you say, pal. It's your house."

Another quick trip later and Bucky was seated comfortably on a stool by a kitchen counter, a pile of sandwiches on a plate in front of him as he demolished the one he held in his hands and moved on to another. Being able to eat fresh meat and vegetables again was a gift from Heaven after what he'd been eating since he’d left for England and the war. Hell, even before then, he and Stevie barely had enough money scraped together to survive on, let alone purchase fancy food. Bucky did his best to savor every bite even while his hunger demanded he devour everything in sight. At one point, Bucky casually glanced up to find both Tony and Bruce watching him with fascinated expressions. Bucky's sudden urge to apologize for causing a scene came up against lessons ingrained in him by his ma to never speak with his mouth full. Ma's lessons won, and he made sure to painstakingly swallow his food before mumbling, "Sorry. It's good."

"It's like watching feeding time at the zoo..." Tony said in amazement.

Bruce gave a long-suffering sigh. "Tony..."

Tony ignored the rebuke, leaning forward curiously. "If I reached for one of those right now, would I lose a finger?"

Shame hit Bucky immediately at the words. After making it through the Depression and all the years scraping by with Steve, it still felt odd to eat the amount he had to. It hadn’t been a problem when the Commandos found out about his secret. At first, they’d simply assumed the missing rations were the work of Steve’s enhanced appetite and teased Steve accordingly. When they found the food was going into Bucky’s share as well, they thought it only fair to give Bucky the same treatment. After the first few jokes, Steve and Bucky eating more than double what the rest of them did became just another fact of life. Bucky had survived their ribbing with relative ease, so he shouldn’t be this upset now. Maybe it was having a total stranger making fun of him that did it.

Then came the realization that Tony had been hanging around Stevie as well, who sure as hell ate as much if not more than Bucky did. If Tony was willing to taunt Bucky about it, what would stop him from going after Steve? Sure, the Ppunk could take care of himself, but just the thought of somebody messing with him still made Bucky’s blood boil. Bucky had a scathing comeback for Stark’s kid that would have him thinking twice about making a similar comment in the future, when JARVIS’s voice stopped him.

“Sir, I’ve completed the DNA analysis on our guest.”

Tony grinned. “Lay it on us, buddy!”

“The sample from our guest is a familial match to the sample on file for Rebecca Barnes Proctor. The two are in fact siblings, and seeing as the Barnes family had only one male child on record, that makes our guest...”

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes,” Tony finished, eyes fixing on Bucky with interest. “Now the question is, how the hell is he sitting here looking not a day over the age he was when he was reported missing and assumed dead in 1945?”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not really sure of that answer himself.

“Unfortunately, sir, that is a question you will have to find an answer to yourself. In the meantime, I’ve forwarded the full test results to your Stark Phone.”

“Thanks, J,” Tony responded, never taking his eyes off Bucky.

“My pleasure, as always, sir.”

Tony pulled a thin rectangular device from his pocket, breaking eye contact to stare at it and moving his thumb over the front. “On that note...” He held the device to his ear and Bucky realized with a start that it was some sort of phone as he heard the faint sound of ringing. The noise was cut off quickly, replaced by a small voice Bucky could just make out with his hearing.

“Hi, Tony”

Bucky nearly froze, able to recognize that voice no matter how faint it was. _Steve_.

“Captain Tightpants!” Tony greeted. “How goes the Great American Roadtrip?”

Steve sighed. “It’s fine, Tony. What do you need?”

There was a tiredness in Steve’s voice, a kind of bone-deep exhaustion that instantly filled Bucky with the aching need to find Steve and comfort him.

“Aw, Cap, I’m hurt. Can’t I just call my new buddy to say hi?” There was nothing but silence from the other end of the line and Tony gave in. “Okay, fine, I need you to turn around and get your star-spangled self back to Manhattan. I’ve got a surprise for you, something I found that you really need to see.”

“Tony...” Steve groaned, “Can’t this wait till I get back?”

Tony glanced back at Bucky. “Trust me, you _really_ want to see this.”

Steve gave another sigh. “Any hints what this surprise is?”

Tony smirked. “Now, Steven, what kind of surprise would it be if I gave you hints?”  he gasped, voice tinged with mock outrage. “I bet you were the kind of kid who used to try and sneak peaks at his Christmas presents, too! If the American people only knew...”

The chuckle Steve let out over the line mirrored the one Bucky managed to suppress. Bucky never ceased to be entertained by how far off the perfect poster boy image they gave Steve as Captain America was. A jolt of heat ran through him as the thought brought up a few of Bucky's more scandalous memories of his lover. If the American people only knew, indeed.

“Fine, Tony, have it your way," Steve conceded. "I should be there by tomorrow afternoon. That fast enough?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

The call ended with another click and a wave of relief washed over Bucky. Tomorrow afternoon he would be back with Steve, able to embrace him after the sight of his grief-stricken face when Bucky fell from the train. In that moment, Bucky didn’t care how he came to be here, all he cared about was getting this second chance.

Tony on the other hand...

“So, now that that’s taken care of, how the hell did you end up here in twenty-twelve?” Tony inquired, leaning forward over the table with interest.

Bucky could only shrug. “Honestly? I woke up in an alley near Times Square. No clue how I got there.”

Bruce adjusted his glasses. “And what’s the last thing you remember before that?”

“The train,” he answered without hesitation. “We were on a mission, and Steve took a hit that knocked him down and blew out the side of the train car. I picked up his shield to hold the bastard off till Steve could get back on his feet, but the next hit threw me through the hole. I grabbed on to what was left of the side, trying not to fall.” Bucky unconsciously gripped the edge of the table, hands tightening their hold at the memory. “Steve did his best to reach me, but the railing I was hanging from gave before he could. I fell and... and that was it. Then I woke up in the alley.”

Tony and Bruce exchanged looks.

“That doesn’t give us much to go on,” Bruce observed. “I’m guessing you were hit by a Hydra weapon?” Bucky nodded and Bruce continued thoughtfully, “Steve said those were powered by the Tesseract. It might have something to do with it, but everything we’ve seen so far suggests that it’s limited to opening doorways in space alone, not time.”

“Too bad the closest thing we have to an expert on the Tesseract skipped the planet and took it with him.” Tony lamented.

“Good,” Bucky butted in. “That thing was never anything but trouble.” Another thought struck him. “Do you know how Steve got here? Did that stuff the doctor gave him make him last this long?”

A silence fell over the room, both men suddenly looking distinctly uncomfortable. Bruce found a sudden need to clean his glasses while Tony fiddled with his phone. The scene caused a knot of tension to form in Bucky's gut, every instinct he had screaming in his head that something horrible had happened.

"Do I need to ask JARVIS?" Bucky pressed, anxious to find out what it was they seemed so reluctant to share with him.

Bruce replaced his glasses and looked Bucky in the eyes. "Two months after your presumed death, Steve was involved in a final mission to take out Schmidt and Hydra. He boarded a plane called the Valkyrie that was filled with bombs bound for the US. The two fought and Schmidt was presumably killed, but the plane was badly damaged in the fight. In order to keep the bombs from reaching their target, Steve was forced to put the plane down in the Arctic ocean."

The knot in Bucky's gut tightened. "You mean he crashed it. He crashed the damn plane," Bucky breathed out. It was almost too horrible to even comprehend, his Stevie being desperate enough to do such a thing. After Bucky confessed how Zola had changed him, he and Steve frequently talked, curled up in their tent late at night, about what the limits of their new bodies might be. They never did come up with an answer, each too afraid to see the other push their abilities too far.  Still, Bucky couldn't imagine Steve thinking himself capable of walking away from a crash like that, which meant he didn't intend to. Steve had believed Bucky was dead and he'd tried his hardest to follow. Bucky's only comfort was that he'd seen Steve, alive and healthy, back on that screen in Times Square.

"But he lived and somebody fished him out of the water, right?" That must have been how it happened, Bucky thought. But then did the serum keep Steve young for the next sixty-seven years?

Bruce shot Tony an odd look, his next words strangely drawn out. "Well... S.H.I.E.L.D did manage to find him, it just took a bit more time."

Bucky was on the verge of asking exactly _how much_ more time, but Tony chose that moment to cut in.

"It took them another sixty-seven years, okay? They only just found him last month. He was frozen in ice until then." Tony turned to Bruce and threw up his hands. "I'm sorry. I tried to stay quiet but dragging it out won't make it any easier for him to hear. Better to just tell him all at once, like ripping off a Band-Aid."

Mind screeching to a halt, Bucky could do nothing but stare. Frozen in ice. Steve was _frozen in ice_ for sixty-seven years. Trapped, unable to move or _breathe_ , and to even get that way he first had to _drown_. Horrific as the news of Steve’s initial crash had been, this was so much worse.

“He’s fine though,” Bruce jumped to add. “The serum kept him alive during that time and there was no long-term damage.”

Bucky prayed that was true. While Steve’s body may have been able to shake off the trauma, Bucky wasn’t so sure his mind could do the same. Steve had a nasty habit of burying anything he might consider a show of weakness, so even if the experience was tearing him up inside, he sure as hell wouldn’t let these near-strangers know. Bucky would have to drag an answer from Steve himself, an uphill battle if there ever was one.

“Maybe it would be best if we call it a night,” Bruce proposed. “I’m sure we can find a spare room for you to stay the night in until Steve arrives. Right, Tony?”

Tony looked slightly offended. “Of course there’s a spare room for him to stay in!” he responded indignantly, giving Bucky a once-over. “I can even have someone run and get you clean stuff to wear, cause, buddy, what you have on now _literally_ belongs in a museum. Curators are gonna be fighting like rabid wolves to get that.”

"The Smithsonian will probably win," Bruce chipped in.

Bucky examined his clothes, marred with filth from crawling through the trenches and forests or Europe, and snorted. Maybe they would keep Steve’s stuff, cause he was the big damn hero, but Bucky was just another soldier following orders. Why would they put him in any museum?

Tony marked the scepticism with a slow smirk that left Bucky uneasy. It bore too much resemblance to the one Howard would often get when he was planning something. Bucky raised an eyebrow at the younger Stark, making a mental note to be on the lookout for anything suspicious.

"In the meantime," Tony continued, getting to his feet, "I'll show you where you can get some sleep." The man studied him again. "And a shower," he added.

Bucky would have taken it personally, but frankly he agreed. He couldn't very well greet Steve still smelling like mud and sweat, and the offer of a real shower was too good to resist. Bucky stood from his chair and took a last look at the leftover food. On a whim, he added another sandwich to his plate and hesitantly pulled it towards him, watching the other two men for any sign that he was being rude. When Tony merely blinked, Bucky took it as permission and carried the plate with him as he followed Tony back to the elevator, wishing Bruce a good night on the way.  

As soon as the doors closed, Tony fished out that phone of his and began poking it with his index finger. Bucky was almost certain that the angle it was being held at that hid what it was showing from him was intentional. That theory was only fed by the unsubtle glances Stark kept throwing his way before turning back to it. Bucky tried not to let it bother him, but after a few minutes he was getting antsy.

"You got something interesting there, Stark?" Bucky finally asked.

Tony gave a noncommittal hum. "Depends on what you find interesting. I, personally, am fascinated by the fact that we managed to collect not one, but _two_ super soldiers."

Bucky did his best to remain calm. "Really? Who'd you find other than Steve?"

"We found you," Tony answered, not looking away from his device.

Bucky made himself chuckle, keeping his tone light. "Me? Where'd you get a funny idea like that from?"

Tony shot him a grin. "So glad you asked." He swiped at the screen on the phone. "You were captured in the Battle of Azzano and held prisoner at a base in Austria, right? That's what the history books say, anyway. Interesting note, many of the other men held captive there later told stories about a crazy doctor who got his kicks using prisoners for experiments. But that's just circumstantial," Tony admitted with a wave of his hand. "Then there's your little disappearing act with the sandwiches. I know they didn't really feed you guys well during the war, but the last person I saw pack away food like that had a strong affinity for prancing around in red, white, and blue. Speaking of..." Tony swiped again. "I managed to snag a little sample from a patch of his uniform before S.H.I.E.L.D whisked it away."

That brought a hard glare from Bucky, the breach of Steve’s privacy stirring his protective instincts, but Tony barrelled on barely fazed. "What? So I'm curious. Not like dear old Dad had any still lying around, and I wanted a look. Anyway, imagine my surprise when JARVIS noted that your DNA sample and his share similar markers. Seeing as how you two aren't related, that doesn't exactly leave an abundance of other explanations."

"I don't know," Bucky replied, forcing himself to remain calm, "still sounds a bit shaky."

"That's where JARVIS comes in again." Tony finally looked up at him, that same grin on his face. "While I've been listing all of this off, my ever-so-helpful AI has been monitoring your reaction. He picked up pauses before your responses that didn't match your normal speech pattern, not to mention the sudden minute changes in your posture and respiratory rate since I brought the topic up. I bet you we would see spikes in your temperature too if I had thought to install thermal cameras in here. I'll have to remember to get around to doing that later."

He was puzzled how Stark could possibly have any of that information until the man turned his phone towards Bucky, the surface covered in moving lines and numbers. Bucky paused, swallowing hard. Maybe future technology wasn't so great after all.

Tony's grin faded, something like sympathy flashing across his face. "Like I said, I'm curious. Doesn't mean I plan to go around broadcasting this to everybody now. Honestly? Still not that big on trusting the government. What can I say? I'm not a huge fan of almost being nuked.”

Bucky started at the unexpected comment. "Thank you."

"Does Rogers know about this?"

Bucky nodded.

"Anybody else?" Tony pressed.

Studying the inventor, Bucky decided he might as well tell him. "The other Commandos, and Peggy Carter, too."

Tony chuckled. "From the stories I've heard, you guys were too close for them to end up spilling your little secret to anyone." His eyes widened, a look of near glee on his face. "I may finally know something Fury doesn't."

"You say that like it's something special," Bucky commented with amusement.

"Oh, that smug bastard loves keeping things to himself.” Tony’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Did my father know?”

Bucky nodded again, feeling the need to clarify “But Steve swore him to secrecy about it.” He let out a huff of laughter, a smile flitting across his face. “I think Howard also preferred having me around, marvelling at everything he did.”

“I’m _sure_ he did. Carter probably kept him in line after you both were gone,” Tony guessed.

That did sound like something Peggy would do. Despite knowing about the relationship that he shared with Bucky, Peggy still cared deeply for Steve. It didn’t take long for that affection to include Bucky as well. Wasn’t too hard for Bucky to return the feelings either. The woman was a real spitfire, just as stubborn as Steve and sharp as a tack to boot. Bucky would have to find out what happened to her, hoping she’d gotten the life she deserved.

Tony cleared his throat. “Well, now that that’s settled, we should probably get out. I had JARVIS hold the elevator for that little conversation.”

It took Bucky a moment to realize they were no longer moving. He blinked as the doors slid open. “Huh. These things sure are a lot smoother now,” Bucky wondered as they stepped off.

“That’s nothing,” Tony dismissed. “If you loved Dad’s stuff, I should give you a tour of _my_ lab sometime. Maybe I can even help you and Cap get a bit more caught up on new tech.”

Bucky’s eyes widened at the prospect. “That would be swell if you can spare the time. Looks like Howard left you the company. That must keep you plenty busy.”

“Eh,” Tony shrugged. “Pepper, my better half, handles most of the business now. You’ll meet her tomorrow. Until then,” Tony gestured to a door with a flourish, “I present your humble accommodations for the night.”

Bucky eyed the door, unsure any place belonging to Stark could be considered “humble”. “Thanks again for letting me stay.”

Tony waved off the gratitude.  “Don’t mention it. Now, go shower, because I spent three months in a cave in Afghanistan and I’m pretty sure I still smelled better than you when I got out. I’ll have someone bring up new clothes, and just ask JARVIS if you need anything else. Right, J?”

“Of course, sir. I’m more than happy to render assistance when needed,” the disembodied voice spoke, sounding just as close as the last time.

Bucky shot Stark a look. “You said he runs through the whole place?” he whispered, worried of offending the AI. Ain’t that something he never imagined would be a concern.

“Yep,” Tony grinned, popping the “p” again, “every nook and cranny. Sleep well.”

Just like that, Bucky was left standing alone by the door, nervously glancing at the ceiling. Even when he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, the thought of being watched made his skin crawl now that he actually had time to really consider it.

"Pardon the interruption, Sergeant," JARVIS's proper British voice cut into his thoughts, "but would you be more comfortable if I deactivated the visual monitoring component of my security for your quarters? I couldn't help but notice that you seem to share Captain Rogers' unease over my cameras."

Bucky chuckled, shoulders relaxing. "Was I that obvious? I didn't want to seem rude."

"Not at all, Sergeant," the AI informed him in a surprisingly reassuring tone. "I'm programmed to detect even the slightest changes in body language, so I daresay my definition of 'obvious' is quite a bit different than yours. Shall I go ahead and deactivate the cameras for you? I'm afraid I will have to leave on the audio component to hear if you require anything in future."

"Please," Bucky responded with more than a bit of relief.

There was a silent pause, then the AI announced. "Video monitoring for your room has been deactivated, Sergeant. Please do feel free to let me know if you need anything else."

Bucky smiled. "Thank you, JARVIS."

"You are most welcome, Sergeant."

More relaxed now that he didn't feel like there were eyes following his every move, Bucky finally took in the room around him. His musing that no place belonging to a Stark could be considered "humble" was right. Simple as it was, Tony had still managed to make the guest room seem opulent.

The floor was covered in plush cream carpeting that had Bucky scrambling to remove his dirty boots before he ruined it. The wall opposite to the door was composed of giant glass panels that stretched from floor to ceiling, revealing a sprawling view of the city below, and reminding Bucky of exactly how high up he was. Maybe later he would work up the courage to take a closer look. Against the wall to the right was an enormous bed, topped with fluffy pillows and a plump coverlet. Bucky regarded it dubiously, knowing that once he would have jumped at the chance to sleep in such a bed, but after so many nights spent sleeping on the hard surfaces at the front, it would certainly be a big adjustment.

On the wall to the left of the door was another closed door, a giant rectangle like a blank picture frame set into the wall next to it, and above a chest of dark-stained wooden drawers. The frame reminded him a bit of those big screens he'd seen in Times Square, and sure enough, as soon as his finger touched the little red light in the bottom corner, the black surface sprang to life. The same images he'd seen before played across the screen, Steve and his new friends in the aftermath of the battle. This time there was sound, drifting from speakers at the front of the device, with a news anchor discussing the latest developments. Bucky watched and listened until they moved on to discussing the invaders, _honest to God aliens from outer space_ , and he decided maybe he'd had enough weird for one day. Touching the light, now green, again returned the screen to its former blank state.

Behind the door, Bucky found one of the ritziest bathrooms he'd ever seen. Fancy dark stone floors were strewn with rugs as plush as his room's carpet, and he saw a matching stone vanity supporting a small mountain of fluffy towels. There was an enormous shower with a glass door and multiple shower heads, and a tub so massive he could probably share it with Steve even now. The last thought made him grin for a minute, at least until he remembered where he was. Though Peggy, Howard, and the Howlies had taken he and Steve being... the way they were – Bucky always hated the names people used for it –  there was no telling how Steve's new buddies might react. Best to err on the side of caution till he had an idea of what they might be walking into if they got caught.

Glancing between the tub and shower, Bucky decided on the former after a quick question to JARVIS confirmed that yes, he could use as much water as he wanted. He would worry about the person bringing him clothing later, for now he was excited for the chance to get a decent bath. Bucky plugged the drain and turned his attention to the faucet. He paused a moment in confusion when he noticed the faucet had only one handle, but it didn't take him long to figure out how to get the water hot. Bucky shucked off his clothing as he waited for the tub, sparing a moment to offer silent thanks that all of the Commandos had been de-loused shortly before they’d went after the train. It would have been rude to repay Tony's hospitality by bringing little critters to infest his nice, clean tower.

Bucky slipped into the tub with a sigh, the warm water heavenly against his skin. He took his time with the bath, using the fragrant smelling bottles of soaps and shampoos lined along the tub’s edge to scrub away what remained of the battlefield, emptying and refilling the water till it stayed clear. Even having permission, Bucky found it hard not to feel just a bit guilty over how much water he used. The bathroom he and Steve had shared with other tenants before heading to war had limited hot water to begin with, but once the war started, they’d  all been encouraged to use even less. Bucky still remembered the posters plastered everywhere warning people not to waste water.

Noticing his fingers were starting to prune from all the soaking, Bucky dragged himself to his feet, reaching for one of those fluffy towels as he stepped over the edge of the tub onto the waiting rug. He wrapped the towel around his waist, thoughts lingering on the war. He never did ask Tony and Bruce who won. Things had gotten so jumbled after he discovered where he was that it had slipped through the cracks. Maybe knowing that home was safe had made it less of a priority. Steve was the one who had been so concerned with defeating the Nazis, Bucky had just wanted to get some payback on Hydra and make it home with Steve in one piece. He could only hope he wasn’t too bad of a person for having such thoughts.

Bucky was pulled from his musings by a knock on the door to his rooms.

“Sergeant, Miss Mills has arrived with a change of clothing for you,” JARVIS announced.

He made sure the towel was wrapped securely around his waist before striding towards the door. Other men might hesitate to greet a stranger while in such a state of undress, but as Steve so often scolded him, Bucky Barnes had no shame. _“Aw, doll, you know you love it,”_ Bucky would joke, just to see Steve smile and roll his eyes.

Bucky’s ma would just say he had a bit of the Devil in him, quite possibly the truth considering the pleasure he took from the eyes of Stark’s poor assistant going wide at the sight of him. He gave her one of his patented charming grins.

“JARVIS says you brought some clothing for me, ma’am?”

She appeared even more flustered at being addressed, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks as she tried and failed to produce words. In the end, Miss Mills settled for thrusting a large bag at Bucky and fleeing back down the hall once he had a hold of it. Bucky retreated into his rooms with a self-satisfied smile stuck on his face. So much for being invisible.

Bucky placed the unusually heavy bag on the bed and unzipped it to examine the contents. On top of everything was a large envelop, a hastily scrawled note stuck to the front.

_This is a first edition. I won’t tell you how much it’s worth because I'd rather not deal with any more of your swooning. – TS_

Brows furrowed in confusion, Bucky reached into the envelope and pulled out a comic. A grin spread across Bucky’s face as he studied the cover. “Captain America and his Howling Commandos!” the title proclaimed. Right in the center was a drawing of Steve, dressed in his old Captain America stage costume, flanked on either side by his faithful teammates, reproduced in every detail down to Dugan’s mustache. Well, almost every detail. Bucky’s jaw dropped as he found the representation of himself, by Steve’s side as usual, but he certainly never remembered ever wearing something like _that_ . There was his favorite wool jacket, or something close to it, but this Bucky also wore tiny red shorts over blue tights! _Tights!_ Dernier must have laughed his ass off.

Imagining the Frenchman's reaction naturally lead to wondering what had become of him and the others. Bucky tucked the comic back into its envelope and dug through the bag of clothing for something to wear to bed. He was too preoccupied to marvel over the fact that when Tony said he was going to send clothing, he meant a small wardrobe's worth, and everything magically seemed to be in his exact size. He ripped open packages and mechanically pulled items on, mind deep in thought weighing the need to know over the fear of what he might learn. Need won over fear, and Bucky decided if anyone knew the answers, it would be JARVIS. Best to start with the biggest question...

"JARVIS, who won the war?"

"The Allies declared victory after the surrender of Germany on May seventh, 1945, officially bringing an end to the war in Europe, and the unconditional surrender of Japan on August fourteenth, 1945 ended the war in the Pacific," JARVIS informed him in his usual polite tone.  

Bucky placed the bag of clothing on top of the dresser then collapsed back onto the bed, releasing a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. They'd won the war, and the same year Bucky fell from the train. He and Steve had come so close to making it back home...

"What about the rest of the Howling Commandos?" Bucky asked. "Did they make it out?"

"Of all the Howling Commandos, you are the only one listed as having died in the line of duty, Sergeant Barnes, a record I believe will now require correction."

A grin split Bucky's face as relief washed over him. Not only had they won the war, but the others had made it home safely. Bucky continued to smile to himself while he wandered back into the bathroom to run a towel over his hair. A more thorough investigation of the area around the sink turned up a brand-new toothbrush encased in plastic, and a tube of toothpaste. Soon as he was done with his hair, Bucky made use of his discoveries to meticulously clean his teeth. There was really something to be said for doing it properly, not just a rushed job with water from his canteen, and that was if they were lucky enough to have toothpaste to begin with.

Bucky stopped briefly at the toilet, then gave his hands a quick wash at the sink before heading to bed, turning lights off along the way. The whole setup was just as soft as it first looked, his body practically sinking into the mattress as he settled the blankets into place. Bucky did his best to relax, closing his eyes in the hope that he'd drift off to sleep, but that just didn't seem to be in the cards for him. Sure, he was tired, but even in this fancy bed in an equally fancy room, something was missing. It was sappy, but he always slept better with Stevie by his side, and he was sure Steve felt the same.

Shipping off to Basic had been hell, same with when the Army eventually sent him over to Europe, but soon as his lover pulled him out of Austria, the two of them were always sneaking into each other's tents. Bucky thought they'd gotten good at doing it without being seen, at least until Falsworth had politely brought it up one morning. Apparently, the other Commandos had figured out what was going on pretty quickly, and after a very brief discussion amongst themselves, had decided they didn't care. In fact, Dugan had been rather happy about it.

 _"If a fella likes my backside, he'll be more inclined to see it kept in one piece,"_ he'd explained. This of course led to an argument over which member of the team had the better backside, a fight that left Bucky laughing and Steve bright red when they all grudgingly agreed it was the captain.

Bucky huffed out a breath, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. "JARVIS? You busy?" he finally called.

"One of the benefits of being an AI, Sergeant, is that I'm quite adept at multitasking," JARVIS stated, managing to sound amused. "Is there something you need?"

"Nah, just can't sleep. You wouldn't happen to have anything else on what happened to the other Commandos after they got back, would you?" Another thought struck him. "Or the other members of my family?"

"Certainly, Sergeant. Would you like detailed histories, or simply the highlights?"

Bucky chuckled. "The highlights would be just fine, thanks."

The two of them spent the rest of the night talking, JARVIS catching him up on all that he had missed. Even without their captain and sergeant, the Howlies had fought on, some of them joining up with Peggy and her new group after the war had ended. They settled down, making families and staying in contact no matter the distance.

Bucky laughed when he learned that big, tough, Dum Dum Dugan had had a small gaggle of red-headed daughters. Bucky still remembered helping to raise his sisters, so he couldn't get past the mental image of Dugan crammed into a tiny chair for a tea party. JARVIS even managed to dig up pictures, Bucky's laugh turning to a fond smile at the image of Dugan standing proudly, surrounded by the equally proud-looking girls. If they’d turned out anything like their dad, Bucky pitied the poor boys who tried to chase them.

Hearing about his family was harder. His parents had made it to a ripe old age, his father passing first and his ma following a few years later. They’d still lived long enough to see his three sisters all get married; occasions Bucky would have given anything to be there for as well. The oldest of them, Anna, had become a teacher, his middle sister Elizabeth a doctor, and little Becca, who was always tagging along behind Steve and him, had become a famous activist for veterans' rights. Bucky was so damned proud of all of them.

Bucky couldn't thank JARVIS enough for finding all of it, especially after the computer promised to assemble the contact information for all living members of his family and those of the Commandos' descendants. He would need to figure out some way to explain to them all how he'd ended up here, but he was excited at the prospect of meeting them.

Rays of sunlight streaming through the windows and creeping across the bed alerted Bucky that morning had arrived. He marvelled at the windows, so clear the night before but now tinted so the rising sun was a soft glow instead of a blinding light. He lingered in bed for what must have been an hour or two, content to watch the sun come up and illuminate the city below, making glass windows on buildings shine with its reflection.

The need to empty his bladder drove Bucky from bed in the end. He swung his legs over the edge, appreciating the sun-warmed carpet under his feet, and shuffled off to the bathroom. Bucky was washing his hands when JARVIS made himself known again.

"Good morning, Sergeant. Sir has arranged for breakfast downstairs if you care to join him. Ms. Potts and Dr. Banner will be there as well."

Bucky glanced down at his clothing. "Let me put on something a little more presentable first."

"Sir tends to have a very loose definition of 'presentable' when his presence is not required in public," JARVIS stated with a hint of disapproval. "Any outfit that includes pants is usually acceptable, and that requirement was recently added by Ms. Potts after an unfortunate incident involving Sir and Dr. Banner."

"I'll keep that in mind," Bucky chuckled.

Despite the lack of dress code, Bucky took his time getting ready, pulling out a nice pair of blue jeans and a soft undershirt that was only a bit tight for his tastes, but would do. He was just reaching for a shirt to put over it, when JARVIS assured him that the undershirt would be sufficient. Bucky grinned as he found what he was mostly certain was hair product tossed among the items in the bag.  

He made quick work of getting dressed, slicking back his hair the way he liked, and pulled out a simple brown leather shoes. Bucky found the elevator again by memory, letting JARVIS take him to the correct floor without even needing to ask. The doors opened to reveal the kitchen he'd seen last night, now occupied by Bruce, Tony, and a woman with strawberry blonde hair.

"There he is!" Tony cried, waving Bucky over. "Hurry up, before the food gets cold!"

Hungry as he was, Bucky set that aside to step up beside the unknown woman and extend a hand to introduce himself. "Sergeant James Barnes, ma'am, but everybody just calls me Bucky. I don't believe we've met yet."

The woman shook his hand with a smile. "Virginia Potts, but everybody just calls me Pepper. It's an honor to meet you, Sergeant."

Still unsure of how to deal with his newfound fame, Bucky fell back on his charm. "The honor's all mine, Miss. Potts. It takes a real special woman to keep a Stark in line. The last woman I knew who could manage it was Peggy Carter." Bucky glanced at Tony. "I imagine your ma was pretty special too."

Tony shifted his focus to his hands resting on the counter, a sad smile crossing his face. Pepper reached over to cover the closest hand with her own and gave it a squeeze.

"Well, I feel proud to be compared to either woman," Pepper declared.

Without hesitation, Tony raised their now-joined hands to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of Pepper's. The display made Bucky wish Steve would hurry up and get here already so he could be with his own lover.

Introductions made, Bucky sat down and everyone dug into their food, the group sharing casual conversation as the meal went on. Bucky was surprised to discover that Bruce was also the green giant that Bucky had seen on the news. He couldn't hide his look of sympathy as Bruce explained, unable to imagine what it must be like to be changed into a weapon with no control over the things you did or the people you might hurt.

"Least you did something good with it," Bucky told him.

Bruce huffed out a laugh. "There are people who would disagree with you on that, here and in Harlem."

"Hey!" Tony interrupted. "Harlem wasn't on you. You were just there to clean up General Idiot's mess. Stark Industries scrapped that attempt at the serum for a reason."

"For all the good it did Steve, I wonder if the serum was worth all the pain that follows people trying to copy it," Bucky confessed with a sigh.

"The true tragedy of invention," Tony mused. "No matter the intentions for creating it, you can't always control how it's used in the end. You just do what you can and hope for the best. Trust me, I speak from experience."

Pepper rested her hand on Tony's shoulder. "And now we have the Avengers. I, for one, feel much safer." She turned her gaze to Bucky. "Have you considered joining? You're something of a legendary marksman in the history books. I'm sure Agent Barton would be thrilled."

Bucky froze at the suggestion. While Steve had been gunning for a spot in the Army since Pearl Harbor, Bucky only went off to war because of the draft. He'd never actually been that keen on the whole idea of shipping off to another country to kill absolute strangers, no matter the cause.  The whole time he was fighting, all he could think about was getting home. Now that he'd made it, time difference notwithstanding, would he ever consider willingly going to fight again? More importantly, could he stand by and let Steve go without him?

"Sir," JARVIS interrupted, pulling Bucky from the thought. "Captain Rogers has arrived and is on his way up."

 _Speak of the Devil_ …

Bucky jumped up from his seat, heart in his throat as he turned towards the elevator doors. He barely registered running a hand through his hair, checking it more as a nervous tick than out of real concern, before balling both hands into fists by his sides. The touch on his shoulder nearly startled him out of his skin. He looked to find Pepper standing next to him, a gentle smile on her face.

“Relax. I’m sure he'll be happy to see you.”

Bucky nodded in thanks, unable to voice his gratitude for the small comfort. He didn’t have much of chance to anyway, because in the next second the elevator doors opened and the occupant stepped out. There was Steve, all tired posture and rumpled clothing. His lover rubbed a hand over his face.

“Okay, Tony, what’s this surprise I just had to…”

The moment Steve noticed him was quite obvious. Steve paused mid-step, his eyes going wide and mouth hanging open. Steve’s eyes darted to Tony, his voice coming out shaky, almost breathless.

“What…?”

"Far as we can tell, this is a one hundred percent authentic James Buchanan Barnes," Tony cut in with a gesture in Bucky's direction, flawlessly guessing what the other man was trying to stutter out. "Still no clue how he got here, but that's him."

Steve's eyes darted back to Bucky, and he let out a shuddering breath. Bucky desperately wanted to run to Steve, to hold him close and kiss him until they were both breathless, but he was also ever mindful of their audience. Instead Bucky stood there, just as frozen as the blond across from him. Steve took one halting step forward, then another, and Bucky was suddenly free of his trance, his own feet carrying him closer to the one person he'd been searching for since he'd found himself in this crazy future. They didn't meet so much as collide, Steve wrapping strong arms around Bucky and holding him so tight it might have hurt if Bucky hadn’t been special like Steve. Bucky held him back just as tight, savoring the feeling of having his lover in his arms once more.

The embrace ended all too soon for Bucky's taste when Steve snaked a hand between their bodies, pressing on Bucky's chest to separate them. Unwilling to let go just yet, Bucky partially obliged, leaning back only as far as he needed to in order to look Steve in the eyes. He was in no way prepared when Steve then hooked a hand behind Bucky's neck and used the leverage to crash their lips together.

Much as he would have loved to enjoy the kiss, a small "Oh" from Pepper behind them reminded Bucky they were being watched. He frantically pushed Steve away, ready to do or say whatever it took to explain this away to Steve's new friends and spare his best guy. But he drew up short at the look of hurt on Steve's face. Bucky tried to indicate the people behind them, attempting to explain his behavior while also baffled that he even needed to. Didn't Steve remember _they could go to jail?_ Hell, being tossed in jail might be the _best-case_ scenario if Stevie's new friends weren't the understanding type.

Steve seemed to take the hint, gaze turning to scan their audience, hurt morphing into confusion then understanding. An unexpected grin spread across Steve's face as he turned back to Bucky.

Leaning closer, Steve whispered in his ear. "It's okay, Buck. It ain't illegal anymore."

Bucky felt his eyes go wide in surprise. He spared a heartbeat to search his lover's features for any sign of deceit, anything that might tell him this miracle wasn't true, but found none. A giant invisible weight that had been dragging Bucky down since the day he realized he didn't love the way boys were expected to evaporated. No reason left to restrain himself, Bucky dove in. Hands sliding up to cradle Steve's face gently in his palms, Bucky pressed their lips together again, pouring every ounce of the joy and love he felt in this instant into his kiss. Steve responded in kind, holding onto Bucky for dear life.

In a perfect world, they could have stayed like that forever, so wrapped up in each other that everything else ceased to exist, but this wasn't a perfect world, and things like oxygen were still a problematic necessity. They finally separated, both gasping for air, foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breath. It provided the perfect opening for Stark.

"Hunh," Tony cut in, bringing their moment crashing to an end. "I did _not_ see that coming."

The sound of a hand swatting a clothed body echoed in the room. "Tony," Pepper admonished.

Bucky worked up the courage to look at the people gathered behind them, surprised to find a slightly teary-eyed Pepper glaring at Tony in disapproval. Bruce merely watched the scene with a small smile.

"What?" Tony defended. “Tell me, could you have honestly called that _Captain America_ , shining paragon of conservative values,  plays for the other team?”

Bucky felt his hackles rise when Steve stiffened next to him, ever ready to stand up for his lover. “You got a problem with that, Stark?” Bucky growled out.

Tony turned back to them, expression incredulous. “Barnes, I am the last person to judge _anybody_ on their bedroom preferences. I only ask that when Rogers decides to go public with this that I get a heads up, cause this is going to give the Fox News talking heads an aneurysm and it’s going to be amazing.”

Bruce, silent till now, let out a small chuckle of agreement at the comment. Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head, then looked at Steve and Bucky.

“What Tony _meant_ to say is that SI will be more than happy to help with any PR arrangements if you two ever decide to make your relationship public,” she told them, a gentle smile on her face.

All the tension that Bucky could practically feel thrumming through Steve drained away, the change allowing Bucky to relax as well.

“We should do something to celebrate!” Tony suggested, a manic gleam too reminiscent of his father in his eyes.  “Come on, how often does something like this happen? Two war heroes, secret lovers, back from the dead and reunited once again! If that doesn’t call for a party, I don’t know what does.”

Thoughtful as that sounded, Bucky was more interested in getting Steve somewhere more private so they could talk. Well, talk and do some other things, things that involved much less clothing and weren’t polite to do in public.

“Maybe later, Tony. I think they probably want to spend some time together first,” Bruce said, shooting a knowing look in Bucky’s direction.

“Bruce is right,” Pepper chimed in. “I’m sure they have more than a bit of catching up to do first.” She glanced over at them. “Maybe we’ll do something for dinner. Just let JARVIS know later if you’re interested.”

“Thank you, Miss Potts,” Steve said with a smile.

“Please, I’ve told you to call me Pepper,” she lightly chided.

Steve’s smile grew. “Thank you, Pepper.”

“You are very welcome, Steve."

Steve turned to Stark. "And thank you, Tony, for taking such good care of Bucky till I got here."

Tony shrugged. "Hey, what are friends for?" Tony waved his hand in their direction. "Now shoo. Bucky has a room, stay as long as you want. Just remember, someone eventually has to go in there and clean it, so don't leave anything too horrific for them to find."

Bucky grinned at the sudden red flush to Steve's cheeks, lowering one arm to his wait to steer him towards the elevators before Steve could stutter out a response. The doors closed on Bruce's chuckle and Peppers exasperated scolding.

Despite their recent happy reunion, the elevator ride up to Bucky’s room was tense, the silence hanging heavily in the air between them. Bucky didn’t even know where to start with Steve now that they had the chance to talk in private. Should he ask what happened to Steve after he fell from the train? Or what on Earth the man had been thinking when he decided to crash a plane into the Arctic Ocean? Maybe find out how he’s really been coping with finding himself in the future, since Steve sure as hell wouldn’t give anybody else an honest answer to the question? Steve was equally as quiet, no doubt going over his own laundry list of questions to ask Bucky in return.

JARVIS announced their arrival, opening the doors so Bucky could lead Steve towards their destination. Bucky let Steve go first, trailing after to shut the door behind them. The click as it closed echoed through the quiet of the room, and Bucky drew in a calming breath before turning to face his lover.

He needn’t have worried about what to say. As soon as they were facing each other, Steve was on him, pressing him into the door at his back and attacking his mouth in a desperate kiss. Now it was Bucky’s turn to push Steve back, knowing they needed to talk.

“Steve,” Bucky warned.

Steve just shook his head. “Whatever it is, it can wait, Buck. Right now...” Steve released a shaky breath. “Right now I need to feel you, need to know that you’re really here. God, the last time I saw you, you were...” Their eyes connected, Steve’s full of pain and glistening with unshed tears. “I let you fall. I couldn’t reach you and _I let you fall_.”

“Hey, now,” Bucky shushed, Steve’s despair like a vise around his heart. “None of that, doll. Don’t you dare go blaming yourself, you hear me?” Bucky raised one hand to caress Steve’s cheek. “There was nothing else you could have done, and it was my choice to be there in the first place.”

Steve chuckled, more a hitching of his breath than anything else. “That’s what Peggy said after, that I should stop blaming myself and allow you the dignity of your choice.”

A smile crept across Bucky’s face. “And what’s the rule, punk?”

Steve returned the smile. “Do what Peggy says.”

“Damn, right,” Bucky said. “Carter knew her stuff, and you're right, we _can_ talk later. We've got time, and if this is what you need now, I ain't gonna argue.”

So, Bucky did what he did best, he took care of his Stevie.

Wrapping his hand around the nape of Steve's neck, Bucky pulled Steve to him for a kiss. A simple swipe of his tongue across Steve's lower lip and his lover opened just as sweetly as Bucky remembered, and let out a moan as Bucky slipped his tongue into his mouth to deepen the kiss. Hands scrabbled at clothing, desperate to reach flesh, yet managing to miraculously not rip a single item. Bucky was strangely proud of their restraint.

Garments discarded, Bucky backed Steve up until his knees hit the bed, giving his lover enough of an extra nudge to send him sprawling onto his back. Steve gazed up at him adoringly from his spot on the bed. The position gave Bucky the perfect chance to drink in every inch of those hard lines and perfect skin on display.

"Beautiful," he murmured to himself, still loud enough for Steve to hear if the sudden blush was anything to go by. Bucky spared another moment to admire how far down it went.

"Buck..." Steve whined, squirming in his impatience.

Bucky chuckled. "Patience, Stevie."

While he would love to give his best guy the welcome he deserved, he knew neither of them were gonna last through the necessary preparations. That meant he had to improvise for now, take the edge off them both so Bucky could take his time and focus on what he really wanted to do.  With that idea in mind, he would need a little something to help.

Bucky dashed into the bathroom, doing his best not to laugh at Steve's overly dramatic groan of disappointment. He grabbed the fancy looking bottle of lotion he'd seen on the sink counter earlier, carrying his prize back to the bedroom to be put to good, though not its intended, use. Dropping the bottle onto the bed, Bucky straddled his waiting lover, drawing Steve into another heated kiss.  Bucky was so hard it ached, pleased to feel Steve's answering erection against the crease of his hip. He blindly reached over for the lotion, gathering more than enough for his purposes.

He pulled back from the kiss, studying Steve's face with rapt attention as he wrapped his hands around both their cocks. Bucky drew on every ounce of self-control he had to only hiss out a breath at the pleasure that jolted through him, more focused on watching Steve react.  Steve's eyes squeezed shut, his head tilting back as his hands shot to Bucky's sides, clutching at him as Bucky began to stroke them both. Bucky was right about this not taking long. Already, he felt warmth curling low in his belly, a coil that tightened with each brush of his hand. He could tell Steve wasn't far behind, the tendons in his neck standing out as he strained, breath coming in little pants between moans.

Bucky leaned forward to run kisses down that neck, reveling in the scent of sweat and _Steve_..

"B-buck..." Steve stuttered out. "Buck... I'm g-gonna..."

He nuzzled his lover's ear, Bucky's own release so damn close. "Go ahead. I gotcha, Stevie."

Steve spilled himself into Bucky's hand with a sharp cry, his orgasm driving Bucky over the edge as well.

Bucky floated down from the high, carefully supporting his weight out of habit from a time when it could so easily have crushed Steve. Not that there was much chance of that happening now. Steve still had his eyes closed, a blissful smile plastered on his face. Bucky pressed a kiss to the closest part of it.

"Hope that didn't tire you out," Bucky said, tone coy, "cause I still got plans for you, mister." He added a playful grope of Steve's ass for emphasis.

Steve opened his eyes, smile turning to a cocky smirk. "I can do this all day."

Well, not _all_ day, but long enough to leave them both exhausted and pleasantly satiated. Bucky managed to get them under the covers, Steve's head resting on his shoulder and one arm thrown over Bucky's waist. They lay there, perfectly content with the silence and enjoying every second of being so close. Talking could come later, but Bucky had no doubt they would be able to find a way forward together in this new time. Steve was the "man with a plan" after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are love but comments keep me sane!
> 
>  
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> P.S.: Come visit me on [Tumblr](http://spacecase42.tumblr.com/). Say hi. I may post about stories I'm working on.


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